


Progress

by Xanoka



Category: Zootopia (2016)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Assault, Bigotry, Boy Scouts, Bullying, Fantastic Racism, Gen, Muzzles, Poor Little Baby Fox, Prejudice, Stereotypes, crushed dreams
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-27
Updated: 2016-03-27
Packaged: 2018-05-29 08:16:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6366451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xanoka/pseuds/Xanoka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Little Nick Wilde is excited to finally join the Junior Ranger Scouts and his mother is proud of him.  Because surely this means society's finally evolving to look past their species' stereotype. Right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Progress

**Author's Note:**

> I finally got to see Zootopia/Zootropolis today and it was ace! I left the cinema full of feelings and they have inspired me to write this super short fic (though there might be more one day...). 
> 
> Oh my goodness, little Nick the fox baby! I have such a weakness for cute baby foxes - as soon as I saw him I knew it was going to hurt. And I wasn't wrong. (Not that childhood angst completely excuses borderline criminal behaviour, but still... That was harsh.) And I just kept thinking, he and his mother both invested a lot in that uniform. 
> 
> So have a fic about that, and please let me know what you think!

It hurts her heart.

Her Nick, so proud, eyes bright and full of joy as she pulled his scarf straight and smoothed out any creases in the clothes she’d worked so hard for.  He seemed to swell with pride, drawing himself up to his full height heroically as he admired his uniform. 

All those long hours and skipped meals were worth it.

She couldn’t help giving him a big squeeze before pushing him gently towards the door as he rushed off to his Scouts meeting.

She was glad, he was making friends in their new area; that they had been willing to look beyond his species and welcome him into their club.  It was progress, surely?

Much needed progress, since her manager _still_ watched her every move, and she’d been working for him for months.  And somehow a security guard always materialised and followed her around every store she ever visited.  And she had to keep her head down around the police, never protest, be super polite: _yes, officer. No, officer._ Her mother’s voice always in her ear: “ _Just don’t give them a reason!”_

But it was progress nonetheless.

Her Nick would show them.  That a mammal was more than their stereotype, since he was honest and optimistic and so kind it warmed her heart.

But then he came home with rumpled clothes and a squashed ear and a stony expression she’d never seen before.  He didn’t say anything, but later she found that precious uniform in the kitchen bin, and when she checked on him at bedtime he was already asleep, traces of tears still on his cheeks. 

Looking closer, she could see marks, as if something had flattened his fur and rubbed away at his skin.  Something long and thin crisscrossing his face.  As if they had –

No.

No, they wouldn’t.

They wouldn’t treat her baby boy like a criminal.

Her hackles were raising and she had to leave the room to calm down.

But the next morning when she helped him get dressed she noticed patches of missing fur and the bruising underneath.

He wouldn’t look at her, and he didn’t say anything, so she kissed his forehead and stroked his cheek and told him he could stay home from school today.

When he fell asleep after lunch, she dug out that uniform and burned it.


End file.
